Tears of Time - The Hellfires of Siberia
by the-majestic-tale
Summary: Episode 2 of Tears of Time - Lyra is given her pick of where to travel with The Doctor - anywhere in time and space. A last minute change in plans causes the two to find themselves in a barren, burning landscape, where a small tribe of humans is barely holding on. All of them must fight for their lives to escape the hellfires to come - here, death lurks in more ways than one.
1. The Siberian Traps

Tears of Time

Episode 2

The Hellfires of Siberia - Part 1:

 **Hey, guys! Thanks for checking out the second story in my 'series',** _ **Tears of Time**_ **\- there's not much you need to know about the series to enjoy it, but you may find some stuff a bit confusing without knowing what happened in the first story. If you are interested, check out the first episode,** _ **For Time Begins Anew,**_ **by clicking on my username, the-majestic-tale** **. Thanks again for reading, and enjoy!**

* * *

"How often do you go traveling around the universe, acting heroic all the time?"

"Do you want the short answer, or the long answer?"

"The short answer, I suppose."

"Only on days ending in 'y'."

The Doctor stood at the TARDIS console, waving his hands over a chrome matrix of dials, levers and buttons. Lyra, on the other hand, was sprinting around the halls of the time machine, examining every single oddity she came across - clocks, gears, and strange creations all leaped out at her. She had just made it up a set of silver stairs when a set of bookshelves caught her eye.

"My goodness, look at that! An alien bookshelf!" she cried out, running her fingers across dozens of faded books written in an otherworldly language. "And over there!" she continued, running over to a chalkboard covered in circular symbols. She stooped down to pick up a piece of chalk from below the board, and she held it up to her face. "Alien chalk! Who would have thought that beings from other worlds would use chalk?"

"That's not alien chalk, Lyra. I ordered it on eBAY back in 1642." The Doctor retorted.

"What's eBAY?"

"Something you humans won't invent for about 150 years, relative to your time."

"Then how could you order chalk using 'eBAY' in 1642? That makes no sense, Doctor."

"Lyra, you're standing in a time machine created by one of the most advanced races in the universe. If I want to get chalk in 1642, I will find a way to get it. But that's not important right now. The offer is still on the table - where shall we go first, Lyra? Your choice."

Lyra raced down the TARDIS' steps to join The Doctor at the console. "Are you serious?" she asked. "Anywhere in the universe?"

"Anything that ever happened, anything that will happen - just say where and when, and we'll be off."

A smile crept across Lyra's face. "Well… there is one place I've read about in this really great pamphlet..."

"Pamphlet? What pamphlet?"

"Oh, you wouldn't like it. You would think it's too dull."

"No, I wouldn't think that at all. Here, look at this!" The Doctor guided Lyra over to a display screen bolted just above the main controls. He pulled the screen over to the two of them, positioning it so it rested above a brass keyboard. "One of the perks, as you might call it, of the TARDIS is that you can just type in the name of a publication, and get information on it in a moment."

"So, it's like a library?"

"No - more like the internet. Well, _exactly_ like the internet, I suppose."

"What's the internet?"

"Doesn't matter, there'll be time for all of that later on. It would just raise further questions." The Doctor rushed. "Just type in your pamphlet name, and we'll get going."

Lyra moved to the brass keyboard, and anxiously scanned it, examining the letters. After about thirty seconds, she poked her index finger on the letter "A". After about thirty more seconds, Lyra squeaked out, "How do you add a space between words?"

The Doctor was dumbfounded. "How do you not know that? Haven't you ever used a typewriter before?"

"What's a typewriter?"

"Oh, that's right. You're from 1850 - you won't see one of those 'till 1868 at the earliest. No matter: press that long key down there for spaces," The Doctor continued, pointing down at the keyboard's space bar.

Lyra pressed the space bar, and then pressed the "M" key. Then, the "O". Then, the "N".

"Look, how long is it going to take you to type this title in? Because I'm not exactly the most patient person you've ever met, you know."

Lyra pressed the "O" key again. Then, the "G". Then, the "R".

"Lyra, what's the name of the pamphlet?"

"A Monograph of Permian Fossils of England." Lyra sputtered out in one breath.

"There we go - now, I'll just type it in for you." The Doctor reached over to the keys, and got about halfway through the title before the clicking of the keys stopped. The Doctor pulled his hands off of the keyboard, and stared at Lyra. "Just so you know, you sound way too enthusiastic about a dull old pamphlet like that."

"I told you you would find it dull!"

"Wait a minute, you want to go meet the guy who wrote this thing? Why would you do that?"

"No, I don't. Why would I want to meet a chap who writes science pamphlets? That's ridiculous."

"Then why did you have me pull up this particular pamphlet then?"

"Well, I was thinking we could go and see what some of these Permian rock-layer fossils looked like in real life! You know, millions of years in the past? Haven't you ever wanted to know what ancient plants, bivalves and fish were like?"

The Doctor gaped at Lyra incredulously. "Yea, I did once. Do you know what I did after that? I knocked some sense into myself, and stuck my head into a river. There were lots of plants, bivalves and fish there - it's _almost_ as if nothing's really changed there since the Permian era! So please, pick sometime else."

"Doctor, you said-"

"Or better yet, pick some _where_ else! If you want to see the Permian, let's go see some Edaphosaurus in Texas! You'll love them - big sails, plant eaters, interesting mating dances. Everything's better in Texas, that's what you humans all say!"

"I'm not really sure that's what-"

"Oh, my mistake. I don't think I got that phrase right - I have some bad memories of Texas. So, it's settled, then?"

"No, Doctor! That's not what I meant!"

"Or, if that's not up your alley, why not go to the middle Permian? Or better yet, go even earlier in time and see millipedes as tall as this box! Not the actual height of the inside, but the outside, of course. We could go to the Siberian Death Traps and watch the continents split, for all I care! But please, we're not going to some stupid creekbed to see fish."

"That is what I requested, and I - wait one minute, did you just say 'Siberian Death Traps'?"

"Bigger!" The Doctor shouted in a staccato manner.

"I'm sorry?"

"Everything's _bigger_ in Texas, not _better_! My mistake. You humans and your phrases."

"What did you mean exactly by 'Siberian Death Traps', Doctor?"

"Well, they should actually be referred to as the Siberian Traps. The 'death' part makes them sound loads more interesting, don't you think?"

"They sound quite nice, but I'm not entirely sure that-"

The Doctor sprung into action, taken over by a burst of inspiration. "I'm overruling your decision!" he shouted **.** "You clearly wouldn't have asked about the traps if you weren't interested in visiting them yourself, so we should go there instead! Problem solved."

"Traps or not, why won't you-"

"Look, I know you're not too big on my hijacking of your plans - but I'll tell you what. I'll make it up to you. You choose our _next_ excursion, perhaps one into the future, and I'll let you use some of the TARDIS controls on the way to Siberia. Besides, it'll be great fun!" The Doctor gestured for Lyra to go around to the other side of the console, where a familiar chrome lever rested. While waiting for Lyra, The Doctor pressed some more buttons, turned a golden dial, and swiped his hand across a network of cables and fibers.

"2-5-2," The Doctor muttered, pressing each number's respective keys. "There. I've set the TARDIS to travel back 252 million years in time, give or take a couple thousand, right to our destination."

"And that destination is?"

"Right in the heart of the Siberian traps!" The Doctor replied with a childlike grin on his face.

"I thought you said I could use some of the controls!"

"Did I say some? I really meant one - sorry about that." The Doctor guided a reluctant Lyra over to the chrome lever, and wrapped her pale hand around the handle, which radiated a gentle heat. "All you have to do is move this lever, and we'll be in ancient Siberia in no time!"

"How does it work?"

"You move the lever, the engines go, and we end up in Siberia!"

"Is it really that simple? Is traveling through time as easy as pulling a lever?"

"If I really wanted to tell you how all of this time travel business actually worked, I would need about three days of your time, and a flow chart - neither of which I have as of right now."

"Does it matter which way I move the lever?"

"No, it doesn't. Pull, push, what does it matter? Send us off, Lyra!"

Lyra smirked and pushed the lever, producing a metallic clanking sound that shook the console. Just as they had done many times before, the rotors atop the console spun and spun, and lights above flared, flashed and flickered. Lyra had only begun to pay attention to the pattern that the lights made when they flashed when all motion stopped, and the TARDIS let out one last groan and a thud.

* * *

The Doctor and Lyra had stepped out of the TARDIS into a barren, sandy wilderness. The sun burned relentlessly above them, nestled in a cloudless blue sky, and rocky outcrops dusted the plains. Not even a speck of green could be found for miles - in fact, the only thing that appeared to contrast the dull beiges and yellows of the sand was the TARDIS itself. To the side of the box, about five miles away, rested four massive formations - sand dusted, jagged volcanoes.

"Frankly, I'm not quite sure where we are at all… I don't get it! The volcanoes are here, but there's not nearly enough of them! Where's the Panthalassic ocean? Where's the lava traps? Where are the Lystrosaurus?"

"Maybe we're in the wrong place?"

"No, we're not. If we were, I would know it." The Doctor crouched down, and scooped up a handful of sand, letting it trickle through his fingers. "More accurately, if we were in the wrong place, I wouldn't have heard the end of it from her."

"Her?"

The Doctor pointed to the blue box behind him, which was now dusted with sand. "Yea, my box. It's a her."

"And you're sure your ship would have told you if you went to the wrong place?"

"I'm positive! I did everything correctly - flipped some switches, turned a dial, punched in the numbers, and pulled the…" The Doctor's words trailed off, and his voice grew quiet. "Remember how I told you it didn't matter which way you moved that lever?"

"Yes?"

"Which way did you move it?"

"I don't know - I believe I pushed it forwards, Doctor."

A look of realization filled The Doctor's face. "Lyra, I was wrong. It _did_ matter which way you moved that lever."

"How so?"

"If you _pushed_ that lever, then we are in the exact same place - just the wrong _time._ "

"What is your point?" Lyra asked, walking across the burning-hot sands, scanning the horizon for anything noteworthy.

"Lyra, you didn't send us 250 million years into the past. You sent us 250 million years into the _future._ This is the same site of the Siberian traps - we're just 500 million years too late."

"Why didn't you tell me that I should have pulled the lever instead of pushing it?"

"Because I was an idiot! Well, I'm _always_ an idiot, more or less - just a slightly larger one in this case. No problem, however! We'll just jump back in my box, and go back to the right time!"

"Doctor, what is that?" Lyra cast her hand over the sands, drawing The Doctor's attention to something on the horizon. "Could it be another volcano?"

"No, it's not." The Doctor stepped forward, and saw dark smoke and ash rise into the blue sky - not a volcano, but a roaring fire. "Listen to me, Lyra. How did that fire get started?"

"What does that have to do with anything? Can't we just go back to where we meant to go in the first place?"

"No, Lyra. Look around! There's nothing to burn in a fire around here! No wood, no plants, nothing!"

"So?"

"Who made that fire?"

"You might want to ask them…" Lyra continued, pointing to a new series of shapes that made their way in front of the crackling fire. In front of The Doctor and Lyra were six figures, perhaps human, dressed in fiery robes of red, orange and yellow, thick with sand. The air was filled with primal whoops and grunts, which only grew louder as the troop approached the TARDIS. As the figures grew closer, The Doctor and Lyra could both discern that all six of the beings had deep, black hair, and blood red paint spread across their faces. In their hands were long, thin spears made of metal, yet still were as red as their faces. There was little time for any movements on The Doctor and Lyra's behalf, and before they could even think getting inside the TARDIS, the two found themselves surrounded by spear points and six seething, flaming faces.

"You…" one of the men began, hissing and spitting through his black teeth, "you carry a bad omen to our people…"

"Bad omen? No, you've got it all wrong! We're just passing through here! It's lovely meeting all of you-"

The Doctor was cut off by the shaking of the ground beneath them. A deep rumble filled the air, but it was drowned out by the cries of the men with spears. Primal noises and hoots rang out, and all of the men turned to face the volcanoes that loomed over the sand flat. The Doctor turned his head, and gestured for Lyra to do the same - a plume of smoke churned out of the heart of the volcanoes, slowly replacing blue sky with grey ash. Meanwhile, the frenzied screams of the men surrounding Lyra and The Doctor changed: they were no longer cries of fear from the scene.

If anything, they resembled a battle cry.

The guttural, primeval cry of a different man came into focus. "You are cursed… and you bring a curse on us, a dying people… you have brought hellfire on us all!"

The spears of all six men came closer to the two time travelers, causing Lyra to jump slightly. Without warning, the men began to move away from the TARDIS, spears locked firmly in place, giving Lyra and The Doctor no choice but to remain with the wanderers, regardless of where they would be taken.

"You know, come to think of it, a creek with plants, bivalves and fish in it would be a lovely place to visit, don't you think, Lyra?"


	2. The Hollow

Tears of Time

Episode 2

The Hellfires of Siberia - Part 2:

A dark spirit passed through the labyrinth under the Earth. Into the caverns blew a mighty wind, which stoked the fires underneath even further. These fires were not of the Earth, but rather, made by man.

Whether or not the fire's creator was human in Lyra's sense of the word was up for debate.

The group of tribesmen that found Lyra and The Doctor on the sand flats had ushered them into their shelter - an underground network of caves and rock. Fires danced erratically, and their lights flickered on cave walls. A glimmer of sunlight pierced through cracks in a nearby wall, the only indication of the cave's entrance, far in the distance. Lyra could still taste the acrid smoke from the volcano, which had not erupted fully yet. Only smoke came out, neither lava nor fire.

Lyra sat in a circle with the six tribesmen and The Doctor, each of them kneeling around a dying fire. The Doctor was previously in the middle of trying to convince the tribe to let him go back to the TARDIS to save them all, but the offer was refused, on the grounds of an "evil one" that would be released if The Doctor did so.

"So, Deyanna, how have you managed to hang on for so long here? Nothing grows here, there's no water, and from what I've seen so far, the heat should have killed all of you long ago." Deyanna, the leader and matriarch of the tribe kneeled opposite The Doctor around the embers. Beside her were three other women and two men - they made up the group of hunters that found the TARDIS not long ago.

"We have been blessed by the Earth itself… and just as it gives, it will take away…"

"What does that mean? Show me - how do you get the water? The food? The fuel for these fires?"

"We will only reveal our lives to those who we trust.. and you have proven to be untrustworthy, man from beyond… your curse fills our skies with fire..." Deyanna continued, stretching her sun-browned arm, draped in crimson silk towards The Doctor. She then moved her arm to the left, drawing the attention of the other members of the tribe - she was pointing directly at Lyra.

"But you… you have hardly spoken since your arrival… who are you?"

Lyra turned to The Doctor, raising her eyebrows in confusion, before turning back to face Deyanna. "I'm a friend of his, just passing by as well - my name's Lyra. Don't mind The Doctor, he can get quite irritable at times."

"I'm not irritable! I'm just _right_!"

"You certainly were not right when you got us into this mess."

"I wasn't that 'not right', Lyra!"

"Missing the mark by 500 million years seems far off to me!"

"Silence!" Deyanna roared, slamming her spear into the sandy floor below, which shook the few remaining flames in the central fire. "Tell us more about yourself, Lyra…"

"I'm not really that special, you know - back home, all I would do is invent things, and try to make people's lives a little better."

"Invent?" Deyanna continued, peering closer into the wood ash and embers of the fire. "Are you saying that you could create things to help others survive?"

"If that's how you would like to put it, then certainly."

Deyanna slammed her spear into the ground two more times, and raised her arms around her tribe. "Then, it is decided!"

"I'm sorry? What has been decided?" The Doctor asked.

"A creator… one who harbors the same kindred spirits as the Hellfires above… your spirit is required this hour!" Deyanna thrust forth her hands toward the fire, and Lyra could see "Andraea, you will go with me to the Hollow, alongside the primitive! All of the others, you will remain here with this 'Doctor'!" Deyanna cried out, accompanied by the rhythmic pounding of spears around her, the sound crescendoing to a deafening thunder. All six of the men and women in robes stood, and raised their spears. Once more, the group surrounded Lyra and The Doctor - but this time, Deyanna and the other woman, Andraea, prodded at Lyra's side until she was separated from The Doctor. He, on the other hand, was left in the company of the other four tribesmen.

"Hollow? What Hollow? Tell me what you're doing with Lyra, and I guarantee that I will be able to help you!" The Doctor shouted over the clicking of spears and shouts of the tribesmen.

Deyanna moved her spearpoint away from Lyra, and hissed coldly at The Doctor, "You have brought hellfire on our people! We dare not risk a second curse from above!"

"You keep throwing that word around, cursed. Who is doling out those punishments for the curse, anyways?"

"Hellfires, Doctor! Your arrival, your vessel prompted the Earth to shake, fire to burn from high mountains, and ash and smoke to overrun our world!"

"Oh, you mean the volcanoes out there? I can help you with that! Just let me get my box, and I'll get you out of this hellish place! From the look of it, there's no food, water, or anything that allows you to hold on in the first place!"

"That is the blessing of the Hellfires… Lyra, you will see it with your own eyes, in the Hollow…" With that said, Deyanna returned to Lyra's side, and whisked her off into the caverns with Andraea, paying no attention to The Doctor's pleading.

Deyanna, Andraea and Lyra were deep in the shadows. " _Perhaps this is what they're so afraid of, nothing more than the dark."_ Lyra wondered, before realizing that the active threat of an erupting volcano would most likely outweigh any fear of the dark. She kept all of her thoughts to herself, refusing to speak unless spoken to - even though the prospect of the Hollow greatly intrigued her. They went left and right, left and right, guided only by the dying lights of torches behind them.

At last, the three women came to a stone wall, flakes peeled away from it by the passage of time. At the center of it lay a stone door, unlike any door Lyra had ever seen before. Deep down, she knew that it _was_ a door, but there appeared to be no way to open it. No handle, no hinges - almost as if the door was cut out of the rock and placed back in. Lyra found herself moving towards it in curiosity, but was wordlessly stopped by Andraea and Deyanna. The two women in robes stepped away from her sides, and gracefully stepped towards the door, stopping in front of two impressions in the ground, covered in the ubiquitous sand that blew in from the scorched plains. The two women then took their spears, and thrusted them shaft-side down into the impressions, one on each side of Lyra, as she watched perplexedly.

Just then, a powerful noise rumbled through the darkness: the door in front of the three was ever so slowly shifting away, revealing an empty space inside. Soon enough, the door had rolled back into the cavern, letting traces of firelight pass through the gap. After remaining silent for far too long, in Lyra's opinion, Deyanna spoke: "Enter the Hollow, young Lyra, and observe our plight with fresh eyes…"

Although she desperately wanted to resist, to possibly further the argument that it was really The Doctor, not her, who should help them, Lyra remained silent. She followed the two women into the opening, and the true nature of the tribe's survival was revealed to her. In front of her rested a crystalline lake, thousands of meters wide, shimmering with the aura of row after row of torches that lit up the walls. All around the lake, Lyra observed crates and barrels, many already broken into, but the majority left undisturbed. Furthermore, Lyra noticed that the lake was not continuous - mounds of earth produced a bridge that led directly to the center, where a set of pedestals rested.

For the first time since she was separated from The Doctor, Lyra spoke, much more cautiously than she usually did: "Is this the Hollow you referred to earlier?"

Andraea was the first to answer, speaking in a lighter tone than Deyanna used, "Yes. This is our sacred place, where the Earth itself blesses our people. It nourishes us, provides us with food trapped in wooden vessels. We retrieve the food first, and use the wood to give back to the Divine… there is much more to see, Lyra.." Andraea left Lyra's side, and grabbed the cracked remnants of one of the overturned wooden crates, while Deyanna grabbed a recently extinguished torch from the stone walls. Afterwards, the two beckoned for Lyra to join them - and move forward into the cavern.

Lyra felt the slightest of trembles pass through her body. The other two women, no longer preventing Lyra from moving with their spears, guided her up to the bridge over the lake. Lyra reluctantly followed the two, and although the lake seemed enormous, the time passed quickly for her. She found herself in the middle of the lake, on a near perfect circle of earth. Gentle waves crashed at her feet, quietly moving the earth while leaving the pedestals she observed earlier alone. In all, there were six pedestals - one large pedestal in the center, and five smaller pedestals that circled the central one. Each one appeared to be constructed out of the same stone that built up the walls of the tribe's shelter.

But what was most striking to Lyra was what each pedestal held. Each of the pedestals held a clay jar, ornately decorated with carved patterns and shapes. Lyra had no clue what any of the symbols she saw on the jars meant, but she noticed that like the pedestals, there were five smaller jars surrounding a larger jar in the middle. Atop each jar rested a plain clay lid, and these lids prompted Lyra to wonder what could possibly be inside each jar. Lyra peered over the central jar, and notice a hole that pierced through the top of the lid.

Deyanna ratcheted her words out again: "Lyra, you have entered the Hollow of Hollows - you are standing on the most revered ground of our people. This is where we humbly ask for your guidance… if you agree to our request, we will release you and your 'Doctor'..."

"That sounds perfectly nice, but what do you need my help with? Why don't you ask someone who knows what he's doing, like The Doctor?"

Deyanna continued, "Do you not remember the fires that stirred under the mountains upon his arrival? He foolishly attempted to lie, to cover himself from his actions… but you did not."

"So, you just think that I'm 'better' than him?"

"That is not all - remember, you yourself said that you invent, create, make people's lives better… we ask that you save us, a dying people… you are a gift from above…"

"Above? What does that mean?"

"We will demonstrate, Lyra, and show you our devotion for the fires that save us… observe our sacred ritual.." Deyanna reached for the lid of the central clay jar, before warning Lyra, "All we ask of you is that you do not blaspheme."

"How do I not blaspheme, exactly?"

"Do not look into the contents of the vessel once it is opened - none of us are permitted to do so!"

"What would happen if one of us _did_ look inside?"

"No one is certain, because no one ever has looked… we avert our eyes as a sign of respect for the Hellfires."

"Respect? What do you-"

Lyra was cut off by Andraea: "You will be able to see the vessel, but you will not be allowed to look inside.."

At that moment, Deyanna lifted the lid of the clay jar, being careful to look across the lake, and not at the inside. Andraea held a handful of cracked wood she had salvaged from the crates earlier, and she dropped it inside. Immediately after, Deyanna grabbed the torch she brought with her, and thrust the lid on the jar. With both hands, she carefully gripped the torch, and moved it over the hole bored into the lid.

Within seconds, a hissing noise broke the silence of the three women - Lyra noticed a stream of pale yellow gas escaping from the hole in the lid, making direct contact with the torch. Blue sparks began to jump across the wood, and moments later, a brilliant orange flame blazed and crackled to life. The fire grew larger and larger, encompassing the torch, and the mysterious gas did not flow any more.

"How did you do that? That's incredible!" Lyra exclaimed, her voice lifting up her spirit.

"This is our respect for the Hellfires that dominate us. We revere and honor the fires that sustain us…"

"This is an act of… worship? Is the fire itself your God?"

"If that is how you see it, then yes - you see, our world is by nature, combustible… fire gives heat and light, yet it ravages all, leaving nothing in its wake. Is there no viewpoint that hellfire evokes other than reverence? And certainly here, with the parching fires of the sun and of the mountains, Hellfire shows itself to us, demanding us to declare it sacred!"

"What does any of this have to do with me inventing a way to save you people?"

"We once numbered in the thousands, our tribe… we were once a mighty people, with no regard for the powers of Hellfire. Eventually, the waters dried, the green seeds and beasts left us, and the mountains began to ignite. We turned away from our wickedness and revered the Hellfires, hoping that in their mercy, they would spare our people. Generations later, we are only six." Deyanna paused, seemingly attempting to grab onto an ever-changing past. "There were once many of us, including inventors and creators, such as yourself. Those people constructed the gate we stepped through not long ago, to guard the treasures we discovered here…"

"You discovered all of this? The lake and the crates and jars?"

"Yes.. in future years, we took the jars, and arranged them as they are now, as a sign of worship and dedication to the Hellfires. Now, our food supplies are dwindling just as our people, our waters have slowly been tainted, and the fires outside the caverns have increased greatly. We urge you to follow in the footsteps of our former creators and inventors, and use your spirit and ingenuity to bargain with the Hellfires, and save us…"

"...you want me to invent a way for you to stay alive?"

"No! It is much more significant than that! Our past creators reflected the very image of the Hellfires themselves. They were the mediators between heaven and Earth, and were our most sacred people."

"No, I think there's been a big misunderstanding here! I know how to invent. By that, I mean that I know how to create devices and products that help make life easier for others, not serve as your priest!" Lyra considered saying something about how all of the tribesmen were following the wrong God, but kept her mouth shut, out of fear of what they might do to her if she were to 'blaspheme' the Hellfires.

"You are our only chance at survival! Serve as our mediator, Lyra, and save us from destruction! Save us from the wrath of the Hellfires, and the curse that your associate has brought onto us!"

" _I have two options here,"_ Lyra thought, " _I could either say yes and pretend like I know what I'm doing, and maybe get myself out of this mess, or say no and possibly be murdered. Who knows what those spears are actually for?"_ Lyra found that fear was a much more powerful motivator than glory amongst a small group of tribesmen.

"I'll do it. I'll try my hardest to save you." Lyra softly uttered. "But in order to do it, I'm going to have to do something you're not going to like..." Lyra had a plan. More realistically, about twenty percent of a plan. She knew the _best_ course of action would be to contact The Doctor, but she knew from experience that she wouldn't be able to persuade the two women who watched her with rapt attention. So what else could she do?

She could signal The Doctor to come to her.

And there was only one way she believed she could do that.

Lyra, Andraea and Deyanna stood in a circle around the central pillar. Fear began to choke Lyra, snaking its way around her throat, yet she knew what she needed to do. Her arms trembled, cautious of what lay ahead of her. Then, she lifted the lid off of the central jar, and peered inside of it.

She only saw inside of it for a fraction of a second, but what Lyra saw sent a chill down her spine. In that single moment, she observed a bubbling, churning grey liquid that crept up the sides of the fragile clay jar. From the inside, she heard a staccato _click-click-clicking_ noise that mixed with the bubbling and filled her with dread. Lyra blocked out everything around her to focus on the liquid - including the screams of the two robed women. Lyra could not discern which scream came from Andraea, and which from Deyanna.

That is, until Lyra jerked after hearing the screams, sending the jar shattering to the ground.

A tremendous splash echoed through the cave. No liquid reached Lyra or Andraea. But Deyanna…

Her screams rattled the stone walls, and her cries shook the torch fires around her.

Not screams of devotion or reverence.

Screams of torment.


	3. Ignition

Tears of Time

Episode 2

The Hellfires of Siberia - Part 3:

"And that's how I saved an entire royal lineage from being wiped out by carnivorous slugs from the Andromeda galaxy! Now, what does that tell you about me?" The Doctor was in the process of regaling the four remaining tribesmen with tales of his heroic deeds across the universe. It only recently began to dawn on The Doctor that perhaps his tales were not appreciated, much less wanted in the first place. None of the other tribesmen said a word, instead choosing to glare menacingly, threateningly at him. The man closest to The Doctor, Brexton, ran his tongue over his black-painted teeth, and a primeval growl was building in his chest, almost as menacing as the faint tremors that rocked the ground below them back and forth.

"I guess I'll just have to answer for you," The Doctor mumbled under his breath, "because it means that I don't usually bring curses on people! In fact, I try to do the exact opposite. Listen to me, and I'm positive that-"

The Doctor was interrupted, much to the relief of the four men in sand-caked robes, by a piercing siren. He was tempted at first to think that the noise was mechanical in nature, but the more he listened, the more he realized that the cry was from someone, not something. The Doctor's hearts raced and his jumped to his feet, letting all of the possibilities that could have befallen Lyra spiral through his mind.

The tribesmen leapt into action as well - the telltale whooping and chanting that accompanied their earlier plight on the sand plains resumed. In the blink of an eye, all four of the remaining men sprinted down the shadowy passageways of the caves below with their spears, kicking piles of sand up beneath their well-worn sandals. The Doctor gritted his teeth, before he too dove into the dark, following the echoing, haunting calls of the huntsmen.

* * *

Lyra covered her mouth with her hands, in a desperate attempt to not add to the screams that thundered before her. Andraea had tossed away her spear, and gripped Lyra's sides, pulling her away from the central pedestal. Although the pedestal still stood, cracked pottery littered the Earth, and the grey bubbling liquid that once filled the pristine jar was now soaking deep into the ground.

"Dear Lord - what's happening to her?" Lyra shrieked, her eyes turning to Deyanna's shaking and convulsing left arm. Lyra's neck strained as she attempted to look away, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. She could plainly see that Deyanna's once red robe sleeve was now coated in the grey liquid, but not because of the color changing from red to grey.

Deyanna's left arm was slowly being eaten away by the liquid.

The robe began to melt away, the liquid tearing away at the beautiful silk fibers. Lyra saw glimpses of Deyanna's brown skin underneath, before it turned darker and darker, shriveling into a dark black. Lyra additionally noticed that it wasn't just Deyanna's skin that was affected - her arm was getting _smaller._ Mass underneath the skin - her muscle, tissue and bone - were being removed as well.

And all Deyanna could do was scream.

Deyanna's body began shaking uncontrollably on the ground below her, yet the spasms only seemed to increase the damage that the liquid did to her. To Lyra, it was sickening to even think about, yet it appeared hauntingly beautiful in some way. Deyanna's arm wasn't just being burnt or torn apart - it rather appeared to be breaking down.

It reminded Lyra of the innocent Kamkora she had seen in Europa's ice-locked oceans, becoming petrified in blackness, turning to dust over millennia.

But Deyanna was not being petrified.

She was slowly becoming devoured.

It was at this moment that Lyra began to recall her past in the Church, back in England. She was not quite religious, but was raised from a young age to know the Lord. In doing so, preachers and ministers would continually preach to the masses about Hellfire and eternal damnation, drilling verses from the word of God in her mind to continually remind her to stay on the narrow path. As Deyanna continued to pulse and scream, Lyra noticed tears rolling down her sand-battered face, mixing with her crimson face paint. From the corners of her mouth spilled a similar crimson liquid - Lyra thought that it was more face paint, but she realized that it must have been something else.

Blood.

Blood, from the straining of Deyanna's blackened teeth, wearing down her tongue and her mouth, just as the liquid continued to wear down her arm into blackness.

One of the verses the ministers had with Lyra time and time again rang true in her mind upon seeing this, displaying the horrors of the lake of fire - Luke 13:28.

" _There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth, when ye shall see Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and all the prophets, in the kingdom of God, and you yourselves thrust out."_

 _Weeping and gnashing of teeth…_

It was not The Doctor who had brought Hellfire on these people.

It was Lyra.

* * *

The screams grew louder and louder. The Doctor followed the rampant footfalls ahead of him and the pounding of spears upon sand, until he saw the four shadowy figures he was with earlier enter a wide stone passage. Three of the men burst past firelights alongside the stone walls, and ran straight for a mound of earth in the center of a wide lake. The fourth man retrieved one of the torches from the wall, and hurried to the lake, illuminating the way. Deyanna lay at the center of the mound, her arms and legs shaking wildly. Andraea held Lyra from behind, further away from the woman in red.

The four men gripped their spears tighter, and made their way across the bridge of earth leading to the women. The Doctor followed, relieved that Lyra was not the source of the painful screaming he had heard earlier. He shoved his way past the speared men to the center, and saw pieces of twisted, shattered clay surrounding Deyanna. Tears and blood flowed across her face, and The Doctor saw the cause of her suffering - her left arm was completely gone below the elbow, and the rest of her arm was slowly being consumed, turning into black dust.

"Lyra? I need you to tell me exactly what happened here!" The Doctor saw that Lyra was choked up in tears, that she was struggling to breathe.

Nevertheless, she still tried her hardest to get her words out, fighting against the restraints her mind put in her way: "I was… I opened the… And, and then it… it fell over and… landed on…" Lyra gave in to her fear, and simply pointed at Deyanna's weakening arm.

Andraea spoke for her - although she too breathed quickly and felt her heart pounding, she spoke with a grave certainty to the tribesmen and The Doctor. "Lyra has opened and shattered the prime vessel of the Hollow of Hollows… she has unleashed terror upon our leader!"

"Is that where all of this clay came from? A container on this pedestal? What did this to her?" The Doctor glanced around and noticed five intact clay jars on five smaller pedestals around all of them.

"It was a blessing from the Earth… a sacred gift of the Hellfires."

The Doctor glanced down at Deyanna again, whose left arm was now becoming blacker and blacker, skin wearing away up to the shoulder. "I know this planet, Andraea. There is nothing on this Earth that could do something like this to Deyanna! Absolutely nothing!"

Deyanna's screams roared louder and louder as her legs flailed helplessly.

"Andraea, and the rest of you, I'm begging you, don't do anything stupid!" The Doctor shouted, attracting Lyra's attention away from the horrors below. He pushed forward again, and knelt down to Deyanna, being careful not to come into contact with any of the clay, nor Deyanna's arm. The Doctor reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out the same slender silver and blue object he had used on Europa - a sonic screwdriver. The same green light and metallic hissing Lyra had heard on Europa only partially drowned out the internal tempest Deyanna experienced.

The Doctor's face lit up in a moment of revelation. "What's in the other vessels, Andraea? The ones surrounding us right now?"

"Further blessings of the Hellfires… we used the central vessel primarily, but the outside vessels contain extra reserves of the gift…"

"I take it that means that they have the exact same stuff the central vessel did!" The Doctor bolted over to a vessel on the outside, and with little patience, he ripped the lid off of the top, revealing a churning, furious grey liquid inside. Unlike Lyra, however, The Doctor took great delight in the image - his suspicions were confirmed.

"I've seen this before - _Nanotechnology!"_

Lyra began to regain her composure. "Is that what… what the stuff that's… that"

"Lyra, stop talking. You're just wasting the few moments Deyanna has left. But, yes! This stuff is not a primal development at all! This is incredibly futuristic technology!" The Doctor thought for a brief moment. "Lyra, never mind. Keep talking - I need you to tell me, did Andraea and Deyanna do anything with the jars? There had to be a reason they took you down here!"

Lyra cleared her throat, and felt hot blood rush to her cheeks. "They… they took some of the wood from some crates back there…"

"Crates?"

"Yes… that's where they get their food and supplies… they took the wood and dropped it in the liquid… and a gas came out of the top of the lid… and they used it to light their torches… it's… it's an act of worship, and how they build up their fires…"

"Of course!" The Doctor shouted, a smile growing across his face, "this is a futuristic nanotechnology, in the form of a liquid! Billions of tiny robots, trapped inside, that break down organic material! The wood gets broken down into its essential elements, which get released as a flammable gas!"

The Doctor's smile dropped.

"It just so happens that a human person is _also_ made of organic material…"

"What are you saying?" the man who held the burning torch bellowed behind The Doctor.

"I'm saying that Deyanna is being eaten alive, by millions upon millions of tiny machines, perfectly designed to decompose living matter, into a flammable…"

 _Flammable…_

The Doctor took one look at the torch before realizing the trouble he was in. Wordlessly, he jumped over Deyanna and gripped Lyra's wrists, before shouting out, "Have any of you ever ran for your lives before?"

Wide eyes and hasty breathing greeted The Doctor.

"That's what I thought. Well, today, you're gonna have to!"

The man with the torch spoke up again: "But can you save her? You said you could-"

"Yes! Yes I can! But, it's much too dangerous for _us_ right now!" He turned over to Deyanna, and whispered, "I'll be back for you…"

He then pulled on Lyra's wrists, sending the two running down the bridge of earth, the rest of the men and women in tow, save for Deyanna. The Doctor's hearts pumped faster and faster, and the world grew darker as the group neared the exit of the Hollow. Breathlessly, each of them stood by the exit one by one, before they turned to reflect upon the danger that lay ahead of them. Deyanna was still screaming in agony, her right arm now clutching what remained of her right arm - her hand sunk through to the bone, black dust spilling out in place of blood.

All the others made it across. Lyra, Andraea, and the four men - the three with no torch, and the one with the torch.

It took The Doctor a fraction of a second to realize what was wrong.

The man who held the torch in the Hollow of Hollows now held no torch.

Cautiously, The Doctor peered around the others, and saw a burning light overturned on the earthen mound, not far from Deyanna.

 _Nanotechnology… turns organic material into a flammable gas…_

 _Flammable…_

The Doctor had no time to think, when a tremendous crash rocked the cavern. A searing heat collided with all of the men and women, accompanied by rings of fire. One flash of light captured it all - combustion.

The explosion knocked bits of earth and water into the air, drowning out Deyanna's last cries. The fire moved upwards in a brilliant ripple, reaching the top of the cavern walls before blasting outwards in a powerful burst of energy. No fire made its way to The Doctor, Lyra and the tribesmen, but its spirit made itself known to all of them, by means of heat and pressure.

It was no wonder that the tribe worshiped and feared Hellfire.

The fires died away as quickly as they came - the earthen mound had vanished entirely, as did much of the water. No shards of clay, no pedestals, no speck of black was left.

 _What happened to the Nanotechnology?_

Although remorse for Deyanna's demise struck The Doctor's hearts firmly, realization sent a chill down his spine. Cries from the tribesmen mourning the loss of their matriarch, their leader filled the heat-shocked cavern, but The Doctor tuned all of the noises out.

He knew what they _didn't_ know.

The Nanotechnology could have only gone in one direction, after escaping from all six of the jars...

Down.

The Doctor used the mourning tribe to his advantage, moving forward to Lyra, undetected by the others. Tears streaked Lyra's face, and her words came out solemnly yet near silently, "I… I killed that woman… it was my fault that… that the…"

"Lyra, I guarantee you that however bad you feel about this, you will feel a million times worse if we do not leave here _right now._ "

"Why?" Lyra exploded in rage. "Why shouldn't I feel guilty? It was my fault that Deyanna died in agony! If I hadn't spilled that liquid, none of us would be in this mess right now!"

"Lyra, do you remember what caused the tribe to see me as untrustworthy in the first place?"

"How does that make me-"

"What was it?"

Lyra stopped, allowing her breathing to grow deeper. "...the volcanoes."

"Exactly. Remember what I said about this place being called the 'Siberian Death Traps?'"

"Yes?"

"All of those jars on the pedestals held the Nanotechnology that ate away at Deyanna, releasing the gas in the process. Look at the lake now! There's none of it anywhere!"

"So, where is it?"

"Burrowing, deep inside the Earth. If it gets down far enough, it will hit the source of the traps completely, an underground pocket of magma. The flammable gas will ignite, strike the magma, and what will happen?"

"...the volcanoes will erupt again…"

"They cannot know this, Lyra. We have to get them to the TARDIS, to safety!"

"And if we don't?"

"The Hellfires of Siberia will overtake every last one of us…"

At that moment, the ground rumbled beneath everyone. The laments of the tribesmen turned to screams and chants of terror, reminiscent of Deyanna's torment at the hands of the Nanotechnology cache. The man who originally held the torch prodded his spear into The Doctor's side, as the remaining tribesmen surrounded The Doctor and Lyra.

"You have cursed our people once more… we were willing to forgive you for your negligence earlier, but _you_ have tortured and killed our leader… the Hellfires above and below are stirring, and you have brought death unto every last one of us!" The resounding cry of the huntsmen continued, louder and stronger than ever, their spears growing closer.

The Doctor gripped the spear of the man in front of him, and twisted it to the side, allowing for an opening to appear for a split second. He forced Lyra through with him, and sprinted out of the hollow, blindly traversing the caverns ahead of him. As the ground shook again, fiercer than before, and footfalls resumed behind him, he was reminded that death lurked in three ways - from above, below, and behind.

He could only pray that death did not lurk in front of him.


End file.
